Honeymoon
by notnowmaybelater
Summary: Howl and Sophie -- the happily ever after gets off to a stressful start
1. Chapter One: In which Sophie plans two w...

Chapter One: In which Sophie plans two weddings  
  
Sophie knew when she agreed to marry the Wizard Howl that she wasn't letting herself in for an easy life.  
  
"That's all right though," she told her veil quietly as she pulled it over her face and tried to keep her balance and her temper while standing on the well-polished dining room chair. Her future sister-in-law, Megan, had made her stand on the chair while Megan and her friends, Sioned and Gwenno, fussed about with the hem of Sophie's wedding dress.  
  
Sophie peered down to inspect their handiwork. It seemed they were making a lot of fuss over an uneven seam that was almost invisible and, in any case, could be quite easily fixed. "Why don't I just put a stitch--" she began.  
  
"We know what we're doing, thank you, Sophie," said Gwenno, sounding very brisk and businesslike. The three women had refused all of Sophie's offers to help with her wedding dress, even though Sophie had pointed out to them several times that she was a hatmaker by trade and that dressmaking was practically second nature to her.  
  
"Surely you know, Sophie," added Sioned, "That you should never, ever sew anything at the same time you're wearing it. It's terribly bad luck!"  
  
Sophie hadn't known. Wales was such a strange world, she thought. It seemed altogether too easy to attract bad luck with the smallest actions - why, you only needed to spill a little salt or sew a button on your coat while you were wearing it. Things were especially bad, it seemed, when you were preparing for a wedding. It didn't surprise her one bit that Howl had decided to learn as much as he could about charms and spells - it was probably the only way he'd have a fighting chance against all the bad luck in his world. The really amazing thing was that most people in that world weren't in the least bit magical and a surprising number of them didn't even believe there was such a thing as magic. Sophie wondered whether she'd ever get used to all the funny customs and beliefs the people had there. The most difficult thing to get used to, though, was Megan. To say Sophie and Megan's personalities clashed would be putting it mildly.  
  
Sophie and Howl had been staying with Megan's family while the wedding preparations were under way. At first Sophie didn't understand why Howl couldn't simply explain to Megan that the front door of "Rivendell", the little yellow house in Wales, was one of the portals to his moving castle which hovered on the outskirts of a town called Market Chipping in Sophie's home world. As she came to know Megan better, Sophie realised that this information would only have caused Megan to fuss and fret and worry what the neighbours would think of them. So Sophie didn't argue when Howl said it might be better if she could stay in Wales for the week, until the wedding was over. "At least she'll think one of us is respectable," he'd pointed out. But living with her future sister in law wasn't easy - even if it was only for a short few days. "Never mind." Sophie spoke softly because she knew Megan wasn't over fond of her as it was. She certainly wouldn't understand why Sophie felt it necessary to speak to her veil. "At least we won't see Megan all the time when we're on our honeymoon," she reassured it.  
  
In fact Sophie was looking forward to the honeymoon much more than she was to her wedding. Even though she had no idea of their destination and Howl was being as infuriatingly secretive as ever.  
  
"I just want to surprise you," he'd told her, just the evening before. He was laughing at her persistance, as she tried to pin him down for the hundredth time. "Now stop nosing, Mrs Nose. You'll love it! I promise."  
  
Sophie believed him. At any rate, she knew the honeymoon was going to be a lot more fun than the wedding, which was being organised by Megan and her friends with a military precision Howl seemed to find alarming. Sophie, who by her own admission liked to be in charge, found herself in the frustrating position of having little or no say in the arrangements.  
  
This was partly because the wedding was taking place in Howl's home country of Wales. And weddings in Wales, as it turned out, were rather different affairs than they were in the land of Ingary, where Sophie had grown up. A wedding in Wales required what struck Sophie as some rather exotic paraphenalia.  
  
"We're going to have to order flowers, sausage rolls, chicken drumsticks," Megan muttered through a mouthful of pins. "I'll call Dewi and see if he can bring his mobile disco over to the rugby club for the reception. Huh, I'll have to phone the rugby club and get them to confirm they can fit us in." She sounded annoyed, as if Howl and Sophie had forced her to organise their wedding and it was all rather more trouble than she needed, but Sophie was quite sure Megan wouldn't have given the project up for anything. She might have said it was because she didn't trust Howl and Sophie to organise "a get-together in a brewery", as she put it, but the truth was that Megan loved being in charge at least as much as Sophie did.  
  
"Oh, yes!" Megan sighed irritably. She smoothed out a piece of lace against the hem of Sophie's dress with one hand and spat a few pins into the other. "And I'll have to call the preacher about conducting the wedding in chapel - although, heaven knows, I wouldn't blame the poor man if he turned us down, seeing it's for our Howell who hasn't set foot in the place in donkey's years and would probably be struck by lightening if he tried to do so."  
  
At this, there was a loud exclamation of outrage and a skidding of boots on linoleum as Howl emerged from the kitchen and appeared in the doorway of the dining room. "How many times, woman?" he began. "We are not--"  
  
"You! Who let you in?" Megan let out a little scream and, with the help of her friends, tried to push her brother back out into the kitchen. "Get out of here!" she squawked. "Don't look at the dress! Idiot! Don't you know, with all your fancy education, what bad luck you'd be asking for, seeing the dress before the wedding?"  
  
From her slippery pedestal, Sophie tried to give her husband-to-be a supportive smile as he was manhandled back into the kitchen by three indignant women. She wasn't sure it was very noticable through masses of gauzy white veil, however.  
  
"We're not getting married in chapel," she heard Howl protest. "No I've nothing against the preacher, but if I've told you once I've told you a hundred times - we're getting married in the register office."  
  
Their voices grew fainter as Howl was hustled further into the kitchen. Sophie heard the back door being unlocked and opened and wondered whether Howl was leaving by choice or by force. Either way, somehow, she didn't think he'd be all that sorry to make his escape.  
  
"A register office! Well, really, Howell! I must say I don't think that's very romantic," Megan was saying disapprovingly. "Why, even the name sounds so. so." She struggled to pluck the words from the air and, after a few attempts, gave up with an irritated wave of her hand. "And I don't suppose you care how it looks - no, of course you wouldn't, would you? You know your photo will be in the local paper, don't you? There's always a weddings section. Have you thought about your children - you are planning to have children I take it? Or do you have to be different on that count as well?" This last part sounded as if she was calling out of the door after someone. A certain Someone who was doubtless already slithering away across the back garden and down the road to a pub called The Ship which had the largest and most magnificent magic-picture screen Sophie had ever seen. There, he would meet with various disreputable characters who shared his taste for rugby and warm beer. Sophie envied him.  
  
"Cofia, Megan," Howl's voice came wafting faintly from somewhere beyond the back door, "No chapel, iawn? Just remember!"  
  
"Nobody asks me what I want," Sophie told the veil indignantly. "Not that I've any idea what the choices are here in Wales. Oh, it's all too annoying! I tell you, when we get back to Ingary, we're going to get married all over again and then I'll have the wedding I want, with my friends and my family -- you see if I don't!"  
  
Not having all her friends and family with her for the wedding was the one thing that Sophie really was sorry about. Ideally, she would have liked the wedding to take place in Ingary. Her home town of Market Chipping was a perfectly respectable place, especially if you ignored the forbidding towers of Howl's castle as it roamed around the outskirts of town. But Sophie could see that Howl might have a problem explaining about Ingary to Megan and her family. And she had no doubt that it would be next to impossible to get Megan to accept that her brother lived in a moving castle there.  
  
Sophie had shared this worry a few weeks earlier with her sister Martha, when she visited Martha at the bakers shop she worked at in Market Chipping.  
  
"Megan already thinks I'm very strange," Sophie had explained, eyeing a custard tart hungrily. She'd been doing so much dashing about from world to world lately, trying to ensure that no one was feeling left out of her wedding plans, that she quite often missed meals, as she had that morning. "And she knows exactly what Howl's like. And, in Megan's view, strange is not good. Showing her the castle - showing her Ingary, even -- would only confirm her worst suspicions." Sophie gave a heavy sigh. "Martha, I'm so tired! I just know I'm going to lose my temper and I'll only be sorry afterwards. I don't want to give Megan any more ammunition."  
  
Martha had been busy serving at the bakery counter. Expertly, she popped half a dozen cheese scones into a big white paper bag and flipped the bag over like a diabolo to twist it closed. She passed the bag to a waiting customer. "Well, I don't think there's really a problem," she'd assured Sophie as she put the money in the till. "If you have the wedding in Wales, we could all go there, couldn't we?"  
  
"Mmm, that would be nice," Sophie had said, absent-mindedly breaking off the crust of the custard tart and putting it into her mouth as she reflected on the idea, but she still looked doubtful. Martha and their other sister Lettie might manage to fit in in Wales - well, at least they wouldn't fit in any worse than Sophie did, although that wasn't saying much. But what about Fanny? Sophie shuddered, remembering Fanny's rather forthright and uncomplimentary opinions about the clothes she had seen people wearing when they came from Howl's world. Fanny was Sophie's step- mother and although she was a good-hearted person and meant no harm with anything she said or did, somehow Sophie did not believe Fanny would be very comfortable with Wales. She was even more certain that Wales would be distinctly uncomfortable with her.  
  
In the end, Sophie, Martha and Lettie had decided between them that the best thing would be for Sophie to have two weddings, one in Wales and one in Ingary.  
  
"And we'll come to both of them!" said Lettie, laughing delightedly.  
  
Unfortunately, although Fanny was rich enough to have paid for both weddings, Sophie knew that her step mother would have been very upset and hurt to discover that she was one of the main reasons for the decision.  
  
"It's easy. We'll just not mention to anyone that we're having two weddings," Howl had whispered to her that evening when Sophie was back in Wales and had confided her idea to him. "We'll have the wedding here. A quiet one, just Megan and her lot, your sisters, Michael and Ben. Then we'll go on honeymoon. Then we'll have the wedding in Ingary."  
  
It was one of the rare occasions they had the place to themselves. For once, the moving picture box - the TV, it was called, Sophie reminded herself - was silent. She and Howl were snuggled up on the battered orange sofa that was more usually loaded with a fast turnover of laundry, schoolbags and TV magazines, the trappings of Megan's busy life.  
  
Although their son Neil spent as much time out of the house as possible, Megan and her husband Gareth were both homebodies by habit. That evening, however, Howl had persuaded Megan that it was high time Gareth took her out for a romantic meal at the local Indian restaurant. With their little daughter, Mari, also out, sleeping over at a friend's house, peace reigned in the little yellow house. Sophie relaxed a little for the first time in weeks as Howl nuzzled her ear. "If nobody knows there's more than one wedding," he murmured, "nobody will have any reason get upset."  
  
Sophie yawned, stretching her arms and legs and not even pretending to cover her mouth. It felt luxurious to be able to do so without having to worry that Megan would cluck her tongue at Some People's Manners. "Honestly, Howl," Sophie said, "sometimes I think I'm turning into as much of a slitherer-outer as you."  
  
It was knowing she had another wedding in Ingary to look forward to that helped Sophie refrain from being downright rude when Megan bustled back into the dining room, red-faced and puffing with indignation, with Sioned and Gwenno in attendance.  
  
"That no good brother of mine!" Megan snorted. "Not a responsible bone in his body! I like the way he just slopes off like that, leaving me to make all the arrangements. Leaving muggins here to book the chapel and fix his wife's wedding dress while he swans off to the pub."  
  
Sophie was tempted to point out that Megan hadn't given Howl much of an option as far as helping them with the wedding dress was concerned. However, if she was going to have an argument with Megan she thought at least it might as well be about something that made a difference. "He doesn't want anyone to book the chapel," Sophie pointed out, in a tone of voice that she hoped didn't sound too close to the not entirely rational irritation that Megan so often inspired in her. It'll all be all right once we're off on honeymoon, she reminded herself. That thought was keeping her sane - although, surprise or not, she thought it would contribute even more to her sanity if she knew exactly where they were going. There were far too many things going on, in Sophie's opinion, that she didn't seem to have any control over. "He wants the register office." Whatever one of those is, she added silently to herself.  
  
"Indeed!" said Megan in a very cold voice and began filling her mouth with pins once more. She threaded a needle and began tacking the piece of lace to the bottom of Sophie's dress with a brisk finality that gave Sophie a clear warning that she could expect no more discussion on that particular matter or -- for the time being at least -- any other.  
  
+++ All characters belong to Diana Wynne Jones 


	2. Chapter Two: In which Sophie rebels agai...

Chapter Two: In which Sophie rebels against hairdressing plans  
  
Howl stayed out till that evening and he returned just in time to diffuse what could have exploded into a bitter argument between Sophie and Megan. Sophie, Megan, Neil and Mari had eaten supper and were sitting around the magic picture box, which was playing some kind of discordant music that Neil had conjured up. Gareth, Megan's husband was working late that night, and wasn't expected back until around half past ten. His dinner was in the oven ready to be heated up in time for when he arrived.  
  
Megan had a pile of magazines next to her chair and was leafing through each one impaitently before discarding it on the other side of the chair and moving on to the next. Every so often, she would lean over to Sophie and push one of the magazines in front of her.  
  
"What do you think of that one?" she kept asking. "Or that, maybe?"  
  
All the magazines seemed to be full of pictures of women with improbable hairstyles. Sophie knew Megan was trying to be friendly and thought she could do a lot worse than make an effort to encourage this mood, but she was at a loss to know how she was supposed to respond.  
  
"Mmm, very nice," she responded first of all, wondering whether she was commenting on the picture, the subject, the woman's make-up or her hair. She tried to keep her tone non-committal because she had a different opinion on each of these aspects and it was always difficult to know what Megan thought about anything until you said something she disagreed with. Then she'd spend the next hour telling you exactly why you were wrong. "Charming," she said when Megan showed her another one. "Lovely," she was saying as Howl walked through the door, but she was aware that Megan was growing increasingly impatient with her responses.  
  
"Thank you," said Howl modestly. "Say it with a little more enthusiasm next time though, if you'd be so kind."  
  
The two women stared at him in bewilderment as he made his way, a little less steadily than usual, through to the kitchen, where they heard milk bottles rattling as the fridge door opened and shut.  
  
It was Megan who worked out what her brother was talking about first. "No one's talking about you, you great fool," she called after him. "Although you've certainly got a point about the lack of enthusiasm," she added crossly, giving Sophie a not very affectionate look and whisking the magazine out of her hands. "Of course if you don't like any of my ideas, Sophie, you only need to say!"  
  
She flipped the magazine onto the carpet with the others. Sophie blinked. "What are you talking about, Megan? I said they were nice, didn't I?"  
  
"You did," Megan conceded grimly. She'd folded her arms, which was always a bad sign. "And you sounded like you were talking about a plate of fried cabbage! Honestly, Sophie, it's your wedding - haven't you given the slightest consideration to how you want your hair to look on the day?"  
  
Howl reappeared from the kitchen, eating a piece of toast. He'd been looking more tired than usual of late, pale and with dark rings under his eyes. That evening he was even a little rumpled, although he was normally fastidious to the point of vanity about his appearance. Clearly, the stress was getting to him too. "What's wrong with her hair?" he asked, nodding towards Sophie and brushing a few crumbs off his faded black sweater. "Looks fine as it is, doesn't it?"  
  
Neil managed to tear himself away from the images of the discordant musicians long enough to turn round and glare at them from under his dark brows. "Yeah, if you like gingernuts."  
  
He said it with his usual dourness, but no one took offence at the remark. They knew it wasn't really a dig at Sophie. Howl gave Sophie a knowing smile, but Sophie was feeling altogether too harrassed to return it. Although the boy claimed otherwise, both they and Megan knew very well that Neil was taken with a girl who'd recently moved in next door by the name of Debbie Price. Debbie had long curly hair the exact colour of an Irish setter and so far seemed oblivious to Neil's charms. Neil, on the other hand, seemed unable to stop himself from raising the subject of Debbie Price on the slightest provocation, mostly in very oblique references, such as the one he'd just made.  
  
"Oh!" Sophie felt very foolish. "My hair!" She'd completely failed to make the connection between the pictures in Megan's magazines and anything she might consider doing with her hair for the wedding. Just another of the differences between Wales and Ingary, she supposed. But she'd asked Lettie to dress her hair for the wedding and she was quite sure Lettie wouldn't have any idea how to arrange it in any of the styles Megan had shown her. "Megan, I don't know how to put my hair in any of those styles," she said. "And I don't know anyone who would."  
  
For a moment Megan just looked at her. Then, to Sophie's surprise she burst out laughing. Sophie smiled back, feeling more confused than ever.  
  
"Oh, heavens, girl - is that what you were worrying about?" Megan was laughing heartily now, rocking back in her chair and brushing a couple of tears out of her eyes. "Did you hear that, Howell? Where did you find this one? She thought she was going to have to do her wedding hair by herself!"  
  
Howl took another bite of his toast and perched himself on the arm of Sophie's chair. "Doesn't she then?" he asked cautiously.  
  
Megan looked at him as if he was mad. Then, apparently, she reminded herself that she shouldn't be surprised about anything Howl might say or think or do. "Of course, she doesn't," she told him good naturedly. "I'm getting Gwenno to come round and do her hair on the morning of the wedding. She's got her own mobile salon, hasn't she?"  
  
Howl nodded thoughtfully and bit into his toast again. He caught Megan glaring at him and guiltily he cupped his other hand under his mouth to catch the crumbs. He darted a shrewd glance at Sophie. "And that's fine with my lovely bride, is it?" he asked.  
  
Sophie stifled an outraged squeak as she realised what Megan had said. "Gwenno? Doing my hair? Since when?"  
  
Megan nodded, looking very pleased with her organisational skills. "Maybe she can do something with your thatch as well," she told Howl with a meaning nod at her brother's hair which, as he'd neglected to lavish the usual attention, spells and potions on it, was currently a rather unflattering mix of wispy blond ends and inch-deep roots of a much darker shade.  
  
Sophie felt as if she'd been slapped in the face. Forget the wedding, she told herself, stay calm, think about the honeymoon. But she wasn't sure she'd be able to put up with much more of Megan's organisation. To think she'd gone and decided Gwenno should style her hair, when Sophie had already promised that Lettie could do it! The cheek! And Lettie would do it so much better than anyone, Sophie thought indignantly, because even if Lettie wasn't a fully qualified hairdresser with her own mobile salon, she was a semi trained witch and that had to count for something, didn't it? Sophie tried to calm down. All right, she reminded herself, so Megan hadn't known that Sophie had already arranged for Lettie to do her wedding hair. Fair enough. But that didn't mean it was too late to enlighten her. "Actually --," Sophie began.  
  
"Well, who else would do it?" said Megan. "It's not as if she knows anyone round here, is it? And it's not as if either of you are up to thinking of these details for yourselves. Oh no, just leave it to good old Megan, she'll sort it out, same as always!"  
  
"And we appreciate it," said Sophie in a decisive tone as soon as Megan paused for breath. It was time to take charge, she thought. Well past time, really. "I wouldn't have known anything about sausage rolls or register offices or anything. But", she stressed the word and looked very serious to show Megan how important this was to her, "I've already arranged for my sister Lettie to do my hair. Thank you," she added politely but firmly.  
  
There was a chilly silence. Then Megan snorted and hoisted herself up out of her chair. "Tea, anyone?" she asked, not waiting for an answer and not looking at either of them as she marched towards the kitchen. Sophie watched her apprehensively. She wasn't sorry she'd spoken up, in fact it was rather a relief to have done so, but with the day of the wedding fast approaching, Sophie wasn't sure she needed any more stress than she was already feeling.  
  
"She'll come round, don't you worry," said Howl. He finished his toast and slid his hand down between the arm of the chair and the cushion, so that his fingers rested against Sophie's leg reassuringly. "She always does, you know. She means well."  
  
+++  
  
"She always thinks she knows what's right for everyone," muttered Sophie after Howl had packed Mari off to bed. Neil wasn't so easily dealt with but Howl casually mentioned a hidden level on a recent computer game he'd given Neil and it wasn't long before Neil disappeared to his room to explore the game further. Sophie's fingers drummed against the orange woven upholstery of the chair. "Doesn't occur to her that anyone else might have their own opinion on anything! She's driving me mad."  
  
"Thinks she knows what's right for everyone, eh?" Howl mused. "Now who does that remind me of, I wonder?"  
  
Sophie glanced up at him and was annoyed to see he was smiling. "I don't think," she replied haughtily. "I know. Your castle would still look like you were trying to run a spider sanctuary if it hadn't been for me."  
  
"Yeah," said Howl wistfully. He snaked his arm around Sophie's shoulders and she slumped against him gratefully. She couldn't believe how tired she felt. Within a few minutes her breathing became deeper and more regular. When he was sure she was fast asleep, Howl freed his arm and removed a forest green knitted blanket from a pile of laundry lying on the orange sofa. He tucked it gently around Sophie, kissed her head, and padded over to the kitchen. Megan was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea and staring into space. She looked less angry now and more hurt.  
  
"I'll have a panad, sis, if you're offering."  
  
"What did your last servant die of?" retorted Megan dourly, but she got to her feet and even looked a little pleased that Howl had given her something else to think about.  
  
+++  
  
It was around midnight when Sophie woke up with the ticking of Megan's china wall clock loud and the humming of the radiator strident by comparison with the surrounding silence. The green blanket had slipped off her and was tangled around her feet. She felt cold and stiff and disoriented. The living room was in darkness, but she was surprised to see a light was still coming from under the kitchen door. Surely no one would still be up at this time of night, she thought, stretching her aching bones. But as she approached the door, she heard the murmur of soft conversation.  
  
She pushed open the door to see Howl and Megan sitting at the kitchen table. Both looked as drowsy as Sophie felt, and very troubled. In front of them were mugs of tea, now only half full, the remaining milky-brown liquid had long since gone cold. Howl and Megan were speaking in quiet, rapid Welsh, but they switched to English as soon as they saw Sophie.  
  
"What's the matter?" Sophie asked.  
  
"Come and sit down, del," said Howl, pulling a chair out for her. Sophie sat down and looked from Howl to Megan. Megan's eyes were rather red and swollen as if she'd been crying. She nodded at Sophie with her usual tight little smile, but Sophie was refreshed enough from her sleep to understand that it was just Megan's way and not ill-meant. Whatever else what bothering her, the sharp words between Sophie and Megan were clearly over and done with. Howl was right. She'd come round and Sophie strongly suspected that Howl had played a part in smoothing things over. Even if, as Sophie was inclined to think, he'd mainly done it in order to slither out of an argument before someone tried to involve him in it, she was glad. It was easy to take Megan the wrong way and think she was being unfriendly when she was just being Megan. This was especially true when you were stressed and over-tired yourself, Sophie realised with a twinge of guilt. Megan is Howl's sister, after all, she told herself. Surely you can try to like her for that reason alone?  
  
"It's Gareth," said Megan at last. "He should have been home an hour and a half ago." Her voice cracked with the effort of keeping any emotion out of her words. Automatically, Sophie pushed a box of tissues towards her. Megan took one. Distractedly, she scrunched it up in her hand and smoothed it flat again on the table top before she continued: "Maybe that's too soon to be worried, but he's always been such a punctual man! So reliable! Howell, Sophie -- I don't know what to think!"  
  
At that moment, as if by way of a response, the telephone rang. All three of them stood up, but it was Megan, looking very pale and apprehensive, who picked up the receiver. As she listened to the voice on the other end of the line, the little remaining colour she had drained out of her face. "Thank you," Megan said in a tiny, defeated voice. "I'm on my way."  
  
++++ All characters belong to Diana Wynne Jones 


	3. Chapter Three: In which Sophie sees star...

Chapter Three -- In which Sophie sees stars  
  
For the next few minutes, Megan rushed about in a frenzy of activity, pulling the television set and the kettle up by their white cable roots, flicking all the wall switches off, and hunting about for a cardigan that didn't "look like an old rag", as she put it. Sophie and Howl looked at one another in worried, helpless puzzlement. They'd both tried asking Megan what the phone call had been about but she simply behaved as if she hadn't heard them. Quite possibly, in the state of mind she appeared to be, she hadn't. Eventually, she began to take notice of them again and ordered Howl to get his car out of the garage and Sophie to fetch Megan's handbag which was upstairs on her dressing table. While they were doing so, Megan had scribbled a note to let Neil know where they were going. She left it on the mahogany-stained coffee table in the living room, just in case he or Mari woke up in the night and wondered where their mother was.  
  
After that, Sophie, Howl and Megan had piled into Howl's decrepit car. Soon they had left the steeply inclined roads behind them and were turning out onto the bypass, heading for the hospital.  
  
"Struck by lightening!" Megan exclaimed, as she had done several times since she had managed to regain sufficient composure to explain to the others why a nurse from the hospital had phoned the house at such a late hour. It was just one of those million to one accidents, the nurse had explained to her. Gareth had been incredibly unlucky, she'd told Megan, but fortunately there was no serious damage. Gareth had been treated for shock, but was well enough to go home if someone would be kind enough to come and fetch him. "My Gareth! I didn't even hear the thunder, did you?"  
  
Sophie and Howl both agreed that they hadn't. How Gareth had managed to get himself struck by lightening on such a night was a complete mystery to them.  
  
"It didn't even feel like a storm was brewing when I was out earlier," said Howl. "And there isn't a cloud in the sky, look."  
  
Sophie was sitting in the back seat. She preferred to sit there because she still found travelling in Howl's horseless carriage rather terrifying. She rested her head against the window and looked up at the sky. Sure enough, it was a cloudless night and every star that was visible from Howl's home world boldly adorned the lapis-coloured sky. The sight of all the stars twinkling up there reminded her of Calcifer, the fire demon and Howl's closest friend.  
  
Calcifer was looking after the moving castle, along with Michael, Howl's apprentice, who was engaged to Martha. Sophie had been missing them both quite badly and looked forward to returning home and finding out everything that had been happening while she was away. Even though Calcifer no longer compelled to remain in the fireplace and could travel wherever he pleased, they had fallen into the comfortable habit of sitting by the hearth of an evening as they talked over the day's events.  
  
It was maddening for Sophie to know that the portal back into the castle was, quite literally, on the doorstep and not being able to visit until after the wedding. But the castle had to remain a secret and it wouldn't do at all for Megan to start asking questions about exactly where her future sister in law had a habit of disappearing for days on end.  
  
After a minute or so of gazing at the firmament, Sophie had managed to pick out the constellation of Orion, which Howl had pointed out to her on the evening after they'd told his family of their plans to marry. The night sky was a giddying spectacle, especially, she thought, when viewed from the window of a car that was roaring through the darkness at a nerve-wracking speed that had left Sophie's stomach way behind them, back at the top of the hill. Low in the sky, just visible above the mountains, she spotted a little cluster of greenish gold stars that she had never noticed before.  
  
"What constellation is that?" she wondered aloud.  
  
"Pay attention to the road, Howell, not the sky," said Megan sharply. "Sophie, don't distract him, you know what he's like." She was sitting in the front passenger seat and kept glancing worriedly at the controls as if she didn't quite trust Howl to know how to use them properly. "I'd quite like to be alive to take care of my husband, if you neither of you minds." She adjusted her seatbelt and her voice took on an accusing tone as a new thought struck her. "Should you even be driving since you spent so long in the pub this afternoon?" she asked her brother.  
  
Howl flicked the indicator on and moved into the fast lane as he overtook a car that looked even more decrepit than his own. "It's not often such a chance comes your way, old girl," he remarked kindly to his car as it struggled back into the left hand lane, "You must seize these chances when they're offered to you. And for your information, Megan, nothing stronger than coffee passed my lips all afternoon. I only went to the pub to watch the rugby."  
  
"How they must look forward to your custom at that place," said Megan drily, but she seemed comforted to hear it and they sped on in a silence that, for the circumstances, was fairly peaceful until they reached the dazzlingly lit main entrance of the hospital.  
  
Visiting hours had, of course, long since finished. However, the nurse who had phoned Megan was expecting them and came down to meet them, her shoes clicking on the polished stone floor as she approached the reception desk.  
  
"How is he?" asked Megan, looking up anxiously. "He can still come home with us, can't he?"  
  
"He can," the nurse assured her. "Follow me and we'll go and see him now."  
  
+++++ All characters belong to Diana Wynne Jones 


	4. Chapter Four: In which Megan and Gareth ...

Chapter Four: In which Megan and Gareth have a nasty shock  
  
People were working in the hospital throughout the night. As Sophie, Howl and Megan followed the nurse along corridor after corridor, they occasionally passed someone pushing a trolley or carrying a mop and bucket and hurrying in the opposite direction. But even so, there was an echoey stillness about the place that Sophie found quite eerie.   
  
She glanced at Howl to see whether he felt the same way, but Howl simply looked tired, dejected and a little ill under the sickly lamps which glared and buzzed overhead. It's just as well, I suppose, thought Sophie. If he were more awake, he'd be fussing about his appearance by now or throwing a tantrum because he's not the centre of attention - especially now that we know Gareth's going to be all right really. Then she remembered how devious Howl could be when it suited him. He'd been rather quiet and subdued since they'd been in Wales. Sophie was used to him dressing less magnificently in his home world, but even so she'd been surprised to discover how drab this normally vain man could look. Sophie had simply assumed that he found the wedding preparations as tiring and stressful as she did. Now she wasn't so sure. After all, she reasoned, he's not the one who has to balance on a slippery chair for hours on end while Megan alters the hem of my wedding dress. He's not the one who has to practise walking with Mari carrying a train behind him. All he has to do is keep out of the way and not look at my dress so as to avoid bad luck. It's as if he's deliberately trying to fade into the background, Sophie thought with a sudden flash of clarity, although she wondered at the same time whether she was doing him a disservice. But she found something persuasive and plausible about the idea that Howl was up to something. That he was trying to avoid someone -- or something. What could it be?  
  
With no immediate solution to this riddle, Sophie tried to focus instead on the good news that Gareth hadn't been seriously hurt. Everything was going to be all right. But, try as she might, she couldn't shake her uneasiness - her sense that some kind of struggle was going on just under the surface. A struggle that Gareth had somehow been dragged into. Somehow, Howl was involved, Sophie was sure of it, but she couldn't say how or why. It wasn't just her imagination working overtime. Was it?   
  
Perhaps everything was going to be all right, but that didn't do anything to lift the eerie atmosphere of the hospital. The soft humming of the electric lights seemed to change in pitch and volume from time to time, rather like someone singing a slow and wistful tune to themselves. The corridor that the nurse was leading them along was intersected on either side by narrower and, for the most part, unlit corridors. The effect of walking along the main corridor was akin to walking at night along a well lit and reasonably busy high street that was, however, being crept up on from both sides by unsavory dark alleyways. On several occasions, Sophie was convinced she sensed some kind of movement in the side corridors. However this movement only ever flickered in the corner of her eye. Whenever she turned her head to look directly at whatever seemed to be moving, she could detect no sign of it.  
  
Now, you really are imagining things, she told herself firmly. Dreary music coming from nowhere! Shadowy creatures prowling around the corridors of a hospital! Whoever heard of such nonsense? Deciding that the black shapes were nothing more than the result of being in an unfamilar place late at night, Sophie fixed her eyes straight ahead of her, determined not to look into any more shadowy corners.  
  
It was at that moment that she really did see something. A dark figure - something like a black flame or a fireside shadow -- flickering as if it were not quite sure of its own exact size or form - darted noiselessly from a side corridor on the left, just a few yards ahead of them, and disappeared into another narrow corridor on the right.  
  
"What was that?" she asked.  
  
"What was what?" asked the nurse, sounding a little distracted.  
"I thought I saw…" began Sophie. Then she stopped, realising that she wasn't by any means sure what she thought she'd seen.  
  
"She's just tired," said Howl, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "We're all tired," he added gloomily.   
  
Sophie looked up at him and decided that even if the wizard was up to something, he wasn't faking the look of a man desperately in need of a good night's sleep. It astonished her that Howl gave no sign of having seen or heard anything out of the ordinary and she very much wanted to quiz him on the nature of hospitals in his world. She knew that magic was a less-utilised resource in Howl's world than in her own, but surely what there was available must be used to cure sick people in hospitals, she thought. And if the sight of the darting figure had given her a chill of fear, then what of it? Hadn't she assumed Calcifer was an evil demon? You can't always judge by appearances, she reminded herself. Perhaps the creature was a force for good. But it was clear she wasn't going to get much conversation out of Howl until he'd had a chance to rest. Learning about hospitals in Wales would keep for another day, she thought.   
  
"It's been a long day," she admitted, pressing her forehead against Howl's shoulder as she tried to push the flickering images of shadow people out of her thoughts.  
  
"This way, please," said the nurse, giving Sophie a funny look and pushing open the double doors that let onto a small ward. Gareth was sitting up in the bed nearest the door, his bedside lamp giving out the only light in the darkened ward. When he heard the ward's double doors creak open, he looked up.  
  
"Your family is here, Mr Parry," the nurse told him.  
  
"Well, thank heavens!" said Gareth. "Hospitals aren't really my cup of tea."  
  
Megan ran to his side with many questions none of which seemed to require immediate answers beyond the reassurance that he felt perfectly fine now and was well enough to make it to the car.  
  
"Yes, but what happened?" asked Sophie, as Megan checked the bedside cabinet for anything that Gareth might have left in there. "Was there a storm?"  
  
"That's the strangest thing," said Gareth, swinging his legs out of bed and cautiously hoisting himself to his feet. "I was just walking along the high street, thinking what a beautiful clear night it was. How beautiful the stars were looking. There was a flash of light, blinding it was and - pff". He gestured with his arm to indicate he'd keeled over at that point. "I don't remember much after that," he said, shaking his head. He was a big man, powerfully built and a full head taller than Howl; it was obvious Neil was going to take after him. Normally Gareth's movements had a strong, easy grace about them, but at that moment he seemed less sure of him self than usual. Even if he was unharmed, the experience had clearly been a very traumatic one.   
  
"Very strange," said Howl.  
  
"Just unlucky," said Megan. "Could have happened to any one of us."  
  
"Yes, very unlucky," said Howl, not sounding completely convinced. It was clear to Sophie that he had other ideas about what had caused Gareth's accident. Sophie suspected she knew what Howl was thinking.  
  
"It seems as though everything in your world is caused by luck," Sophie told him under her breath. "Including," she added meaningly, "the kinds of things that we would call magic."  
  
Howl nodded briefly to indicate he'd heard but that he had no intention of discussing the subject in front of Megan.   
  
"I think he'll be all right now," Howl said, detatching the doctor's clipboard from the end of Gareth's bed and holding it under the lamp.  
  
Sophie looked at the clipboard too and wondered what made Howl so sure of that. Apart from the name "Gareth Parry", she couldn't understand much of what was written there. It seemed to be written in the kind of secret language, full of long words, that doctors used to talk to one another.  
  
"You'd know all about that, would you, Doctor Jenkins?" Gareth sounded skeptical and he was still shaking a little with the after effects of his ordeal, but Sophie was pleased to see he was laughing. At least he'd recovered his sense of humour. Howl grinned back and shrugged.  
  
Megan sniffed. "He's not a proper doctor, Gareth. I've told you. Just a doctor of weird historical nonsense that no one else cares about."  
  
Howl didn't bother to defend himself, but there was nothing unusual about that. Sophie knew that perfectly well, even if she still found it quite incomprehensible. She felt irritated on his behalf and had just opened her mouth to deliver a waspish retort, when Howl gave her a warning look. Sophie shut her mouth quickly, feeling equally annoyed at both of them. If Martha or Lettie put me down like that, she thought, I don't think I'd be able to hold my tongue with them. Howl's such a coward and it's all down to pure laziness really. Just because he can't afford to get angry and use magic - that's no excuse for not standing up for himself. But he simply can't be bothered to do so half the time. And Megan takes full advantage of that!   
  
For the homeward journey, Megan climbed into the back of the car with Gareth, leaving the front passenger seat to Sophie. Sophie felt a little faint at the idea of hurtling through the dark without being able to hide behind the driver's seat. She hesitated for few moments, taking slow deep breaths of the chilly night air in an effort to make herself feel calmer. It wasn't really working. She always avoided travelling in the front of the car when she could. Noticing her colour, which was distinctly green, even under the phosphorescent orange glow of the car park lights, Howl was concerned.   
  
"Of course, if you're feeling ill, you couldn't have picked a better place," he observed and nodded towards the hospital. That did it. Those eerie darting shadows! That languid, barely audible music! Imagination or not, Sophie had no intention of going back inside the hospital. She got into the car. The best thing, she decided as she fastened her seat belt, would be to think about something else. She rested her head against the passenger door window and focussed her attention on the sky. As they left the lights of the hospital behind them, the stars became visible once more and Sophie looked across the mountains for the greenish gold stars she'd wondered about earlier, but they must have set, she realised. She couldn't see them any more.  
  
"I don't think I care much for hospitals," she remarked to Howl, hoping that he would make some comment on the strange atmosphere she'd sensed in there. "What a horrid place." For all Sophie knew, hospitals in Howl's world were always crawling with malevolent supernatural entities, although she didn't think it would make a lot of sense to allow them access to a place where there were so many sick people they could prey on.  
  
"It's quite a nice hospital, as hospitals go," said Howl, not looking at her. In spite of Megan's lack of faith in his driving skills, he seemed to be giving the road ahead his full attention. "But I didn't like it at all tonight."  
  
Sophie was wild to hear exactly what Howl meant by that remark. Had he noticed something different about the place? Had it seemed somehow different from how it had been on previous occasions? She wanted to ask him too whether he'd noticed any of the strange darting shadows that she was growing more and more convinced that she'd really seen. However, Sophie knew, that was likely to be the most direct answer Howl would give her while Megan and Gareth were in earshot and fell silent once more.  
  
It was Gareth who picked up the conversation. "I don't much care for hospitals, myself," he told Sophie. "Make me feel uncomfortable, they do. I couldn't have been in there an hour but I was imagining all kinds of nonsense. Felt like something was coming for me and I'd never leave the place alive. Stupid, really, but there you go."  
  
"Don't talk like that," said Megan. She took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "You're going to be perfectly all right after a good night's sleep the nurse said."  
  
"I know, cariad," said Gareth calmly. "It's all nonsense, of course, but I'm glad to be out of there all the same."  
  
Sophie didn't say anything. She was a little surprised at Gareth's perceptiveness. Of all of them, she would have thought Gareth the least likely person to sense any kind of magical disturbance. He always gave the impression of being exactly what he seemed to be, a marvellously uncomplicated man whose straightforward character would most likely render him unaware of the hidden depths and undertows of other people's natures. And yet, neither Howl nor Megan seemed to have found the place particularly troubling. It only went to show, thought Sophie, how easy it was to jump to conclusions about people. Perhaps Gareth hadn't seen what she'd seen, but he'd certainly sensed that there was something wrong with the atmosphere of the place.  
  
By the time Howl pulled up in front of "Rivendell", Gareth was, he said, feeling perfectly well, but Megan wasn't by any means convinced and insisted on wrapping a blanket round him as he was getting out of the car. In spite of Gareth's grumbles, perhaps it was a good idea as it seemed to make Megan feel better at any rate. Sophie left Megan to help Gareth out of the car and walked up the little concrete path towards the doorstep where Howl was standing.  
  
Howl had produced his collection of flat yellow keys and was unlocking the door. Even through the frosted glass panels of the front door, Sophie could see there was something wrong with the living room. It was as if someone had been moving the furniture round. Most likely Neil or Mari had woken up in the night and, discovering their parents were missing, decided to get up to some fun and games. She drew a breath, anticipating another drama and, as Howl had opened the door a fraction of an inch, caught a faint gust of a burning smell - it was like the smell of the fire burning in the hearth of the moving castle, thought Sophie feeling homesick again. The houseproud Megan would not be pleased.  
  
"Hm," muttered Howl as if in agreement with her. "This doesn't look good." He opened the door wider so they could step inside.  
  
He'd spoken softly, but Megan's sharp ears missed very little. "What is it? What is it?" she asked, pushing past them. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of her tiny living room, normally so cosy and neat.  
  
The only piece of furniture that was upright was the orange sofa and, judging by the strewn cushions, magazines and bags that surrounded it, that had also been upturned at some point in the evening. All the laundry that Megan had lovingly ironed and folded now lay creased and trampled on the brown carpet. Neil and Mari were huddled together on the sofa, closer to one another than they would normally have condescended to be. Their eyes were large and dark with fear. At the sight of Megan, Mari squirmed down from the sofa and ran to her. "It wasn't us, mam," said Neil, watching his mother anxiously. "I heard a noise. It woke me up. Mari, too. I made her stay upstairs until everything was quiet. When we came down, it was like this."  
  
"Oh!" exclaimed Megan, scooping little Mari into her arms as she surveyed the chaos. "We've been burgled. Who would do something like this? And what's that smoky smell?" She sounded more saddened than shocked or angry. It was obvious that the contemptuous way the intruder had treated her home felt like a personal insult to her.  
  
Gareth was immediately at her side. He put a protective arm around her shoulders. "I'll call the police station, del," he said.  
  
+++  
All characters belong to Diana Wynne Jones 


	5. Chapter Five: In which some visit the mo...

Chapter Five: In which some visit the mountains while others go to the library  
  
The police arrived, taking statements from everyone, commenting on the lack of burglar alarms on the property and remarking on the curious smell which still hung in Megan's living room.   
  
"Reminds me of a chemistry set I had as a boy," one of them said. "Strange business, this. You say nothing's been taken, no?"  
  
"Nothing," Megan told him. "That doesn't make it all right, though!" she added rather fiercely, as if she thought the police officer might be under the impression that it was perfectly acceptable for someone to break into a home and throw the furniture around as long as they didn't actually steal anything.  
  
"No of course not," the officer agreed hurriedly. "But it does mean it's probably kids. I keep a close eye on the local troublemakers, so I daresay we'll hear all about what they've been up to quite soon." He closed his notebook. "That's all I can tell you for the minute, Mrs Parry. It's a shocking thing to happen. Most unlucky. I suggest you all try and get some sleep now."  
  
"Some chance of that!" snorted Megan after the police had left. Together they'd managed to move the furniture back into place as best they could remember it, but Megan was still fretfully nudging the chairs back and forth an inch in a bid for a level of perfection that she was far too tired and upset to achieve. "I'm far too on edge to sleep. Gareth, put the kettle on, will you, del?"  
  
"Coffee won't help you sleep," said Sophie. "Why don't I make some cocoa?" she added, standing up before she remembered how defensive Megan could be about people using her kitchen. It wasn't a time to antagonise Megan. She sat back down.  
  
"Cocoa sounds good," said Howl, while, from the sofa, Neil and Mari yawned their approval.  
  
Gareth nodded and went into the kitchen.  
  
It had gone three and little ghostly fingers of light were starting to claw their way across the night sky. Mari, and even Neil, hadn't needed much persuading to take their cocoa up to bed with them. A little while later, everyone else was sitting in the living room, feeling a little less distressed, almost cosy even, as they sipped their cocoa.  
  
Gareth shook his head. "This area's going right downhill, te," he remarked. "I worry about the kids growing up round here."  
  
"Well, moving away isn't the answer," said Megan -- rather huffily because she and Howl had grown up in the little yellow house and it had been willed to them when their father died. "If you move away that just makes one decent family less in the area." She put her face in her hands and massaged her scalp with her fingertips. "Wouldn't it be nice to get away for a few days, though! To have a break from all this insanity."  
  
"Mmm," agreed Gareth with feeling.  
  
"That's a good idea," said Howl. "A change of scene. Take the kids off to the mountains or something." Sophie looked at him, startled. Had he forgotten that their wedding was only two days away? No matter how much she and Megan got on one another's nerves, Megan was the only person who seemed to have a clue about how to go about organising a wedding in Wales. Megan was the only one who had dedicated herself to plugging all little holes through which bad luck could wriggle in and   
  
ruin a wedding in this world. And she was the only one who seemed to understand the mysterious importance of sausage rolls.  
  
"Right!" announced Megan. "That's decided then." She slapped down her mug and faced Gareth. "Why don't you take the kids to your mum's for a few days? Give you a chance to take it easy, get your strength back. It'll get the kids from under my feet too, while I get the house straight and these two married."  
  
Gareth stared at her. "You're not coming with us then?"  
  
"Heavens, no!" Megan smoothed an imaginary crinkle from her skirt and looked pleased with herself. "I've far too much to do right here. Howell and Sophie need me to get them organised."  
  
Sophie opened and shut her mouth, caught between the wish to point out that she could organise herself thank-you-very-much and the niggling worry that she would struggle to avert all the bad luck that getting married in Howl's world seemed to attract. Before she could find a way to put that into words, Howl spoke.   
  
"You've already organised us perfectly, sis," he told her smoothly. "Everything's under control. The dress, the register office (Megan opened her mouth to protest and Howl went on hurriedly), the reception afterwards. Why don't you relax for a few days and come back in time to enjoy the wedding."  
  
"Well..." Megan wavered. In spite of her sense of duty, she was evidently tempted by the idea of a few days in the mountains.  
  
Gareth, however, remained unconvinced. "I'll miss your Howell's stag night," he pointed out.  
  
"So much the better," said Megan, tartly. "Bad enough having one of you rolling in past midnight, tripping over the furniture and throwing up in the garden without turning it into a double act."   
  
However, thoughts of what damage Howl might cause to her furniture or garden while she was away, must have preyed on Megan's mind because, just before she and Gareth turned in for the night, she said: "No. I think the best thing would be for you and the kids to stay at your mum's till the wedding. I'll stay here and once these two are safely married we'll go and have a nice weekend away somewhere."  
  
When they had gone, Sophie flopped back in her chair, as outraged as her depleted reserves of energy would allow her to be. "Get us organised, indeed! Howl, would you mind very much if I strangled your sister?"  
  
"As long as you do it quietly," Howl assured her.   
  
He stroked her hair, but his thoughts seemed to Sophie to be elsewhere. "You're up to something, aren't you Howl?"  
  
"Am I?" Howl asked with maddening innocence.  
  
Sophie hadn't felt this tired since the curse that had turned her into an old woman had been broken. She certainly didn't have the energy to play cat and mouse with Howl. "And it's something to do with that thing I saw at the hospital," she added accusingly. "You saw it too, so don't try to deny it."  
  
Howl gave her a shifty, uncomfortable look, but he didn't deny that he'd seen the strange flickering shapes. "It's not so much what I'm up to as what someone else might be up to," he said cryptically. "That's why I thought it might be a good thing if Megan took her family away for a while. I wasn't going to say anything because I didn't think we were staying here long enough for it to come and find us here, but I'm starting to wonder..."  
  
"You're starting to wonder! I'm starting to wonder whether I'm marrying a lunatic. Howl, whatever are you talking about? What's coming to find us?"  
  
Howl shut his eyes and rested his head against Sophie's. "Sophie, I'm very tired," he grumbled and for a full minute he didn't say anything more. Then he added, more than half-asleep, "Besides it won't strike again tonight. It's almost daylight,   
  
look."  
  
Sure enough, when Sophie turned her eyes to the window, the sky outside was the brittle, stormy blue that heralded dawn and Venus hung, bright and low, over the roofs of the houses opposite.  
  
+++  
  
Everyone slept in late the next day. In the afternoon, Gareth, Neil and Mari set off in his car for the mountains. Neil hadn't wanted to go in the end and when when Sophie saw him look back with a resentful stare in the direction of Debbie Price's front garden, she thought she knew why. Despite attempts from all corners to persuade her to join them, Megan was unmoved. However, she seemed to be fussing less than she usually did, although perhaps she was simply too tired to put much spirit into her fussing.   
  
For her part, Sophie was quietly alarmed by what Howl had said the night before. What had come looking for them? What did it want from them? And what on earth was had it been up to, lurking around the hospital on the night of Gareth's accident? These were the questions that filled her mind, but if she thought she was going to get a straight answer from Howl, she was setting herself up for disappointment.  
  
Although it was gone midday by the time he got up, he had the self-satisfied air of someone who had gone to bed early, slept well and was making an early start on setting the world to rights. He breezed downstairs in a cloud of the sharp, citric fragrance he seemed to favour in his own world (having used all of Megan's hot water in his bath), looking more groomed, more decisive and more in control than Sophie had seen him in weeks.  
  
"Can't stop," he told Sophie, and kissed her before she could put herself between him and the front door. "Got tickets to another world." He brandished a handful off rather grubby-looking buff-coloured cards at her as he made his escape.  
  
"He means he's going to the library," said Megan dourly, looking up from her laundry-folding to take in Sophie's bewildered expression. "I've been on at him to clear his junk out of the garage, but, no. Sir's going to be out for the rest of the day now." She folded one of Gareth's white T-shirts in to a neat little square and deftly flicked it onto a pile with the others. "Honestly, I know I'm always on at our Neil to read more, but there's such a thing as going to extremes."  
  
Sophie didn't reply. She joined Megan at the ironing board and began helping her to fold the clothes. Howl read for pleasure, but Sophie didn't feel as confident as Megan seemed to be that he'd simply taken himself off to the library to wallow in the library's latest intake of thrillers and murder mysteries. She knew he also turned to books when he was in trouble. When he needed answers.  
  
Sophie needed answers, too. What exactly was going on? What kind of trouble had come looking for them? And what would happen when it found them?  
  
+++  
  
Thanks to everyone who's reviewed. I hadn't forgotten this story, but I had to go back and re-read several books to make sure my idea made sense (yes, there's going to be a crossover). I'm still not sure that it will work, but I'm going to try anyway. You'll see what I mean in a couple of chapters ;) 


	6. Chapter Six: In which various worlds, wh...

Chapter Six: In which various worlds, which aren't supposed to affect one another, do so  
  
(Spoiler alert: If you haven't read DWJ's "The Dark Lord of Derkholm", please read that before you read this chapter -- it's a really good book and this chapter gives away too much about how it ends.)  
  
That evening, Howl returned from the library. Sophie met him in the hall, anxious to find out what he had been reading up on in the hope that that would give her some idea of the danger they faced. She knew that if she let him past to his room the books would be secreted there and she'd face a harder job of finding out what he was up to. Howl kissed her as he tried to sidle past, but Sophie was getting a little cynical about this manoeuvre and took the opportunity to peer over his shoulder at the books he held behind his back.  
  
"'Worlds Within Worlds'," she read aloud from the spine of one fat paperback. "'Invisible Darkness'," she read from another. For some reason the titles did nothing to ease her mind. "Howl, please explain what's going on!"  
  
Howl tried to laugh, but it sounded rather hollow and forced. "Sophie, stop fretting," he told her. "Everything's under control. Sort of."  
  
"Sort of!" exclaimed Sophie in dismay. "Gareth's already been hurt. What next?"  
  
"Yes." Howl looked grave. "I thought that was an accident. In a way, I still do."  
  
"Howl, stop talking in riddles!" pleaded Sophie, by now feeling really alarmed. "Either it was an accident or it wasn't!"  
  
Howl didn't speak for some time. Sophie could tell he was struggling to come up with another way of evading her questions, but she also had an inkling that he was no longer sure that evasion was the wisest course of action. She watched him doggedly. "I don't think they meant to harm Gareth," he told her at last and then added carefully: "but they certainly meant to attack someone."   
  
He looked at Sophie. "Me," he admitted in response to her unspoken question. "And perhaps you." Sophie gasped. Howl continued: "However, they're still quite weak and I think they see us as dimly as we see them. They can't tell who's who. That puts everyone around us in danger from them."  
  
"They!" Sophie threw up her hands in exasperation. "Who are they, anyway?"  
  
"You saw them," said Howl softly. "At the hospital. Shadow people. Their world exists in the same space as our own. You could say they live in this world alongside us, but we're never aware of them normally and they're not aware of us. Something's happened to change that. If I'm right, someone's using magic to open the door between their reality and ours. As the spell gathers momentum, they'll have more and more power in our reality."  
  
"What do they want from us?"  
  
"I've been turning that over and over in my mind." Howl shrugged. "I can't see what we have that the shadow people would want. The only thing that seems plausible is that someone is using them to do their work." As if suddenly aware of the futility of continuing to keep the library books hidden behind his back, he tucked them under his arm. There was a third book, one which Sophie had been unable to see before, which Howl now held out to her. "I thought you might like to read this," he told her, and for a moment he looked almost bashful. "It'll give you an idea of where I'm taking you on our honeymoon."  
  
Sophie took the book and flipped it open to see a map of a land she didn't recognise. Her eye immediately fell on a familiar name. "Rivendell?" she said wonderingly. "But that's..."  
  
"Why do you think I chose that name for our house?" said Howl. "I've always longed to go there, and when I discovered there were other worlds beyond this one, I almost dared to believe..." He twiddled a strand of Sophie's hair around his finger distractedly. "It's not the real Rivendell, of course," he said wistfully. "If there is such a place. But I'd like to show you the place as I imagine it, all the same."  
  
He let her hair fall from his fingers stepped back from her, smiling tenderly, before turning and heading briskly up the stairs to his room.  
  
Sophie watched him go and hugged the book to herself. She was feeling warm and tingly inside. It was a full five minutes before she realised that Howl had slithered out yet again.  
  
+++  
  
The next day, being the day before the wedding, was so full of noise and bustle that Sophie scarcely had time to dwell on thoughts of the mysterious shadow people. She spent the entire morning balancing on the slippery chair, while Megan and her friends clucked and fussed until, at around midday, they were finally satisfied with the hem of her wedding dress. The afternoon was mostly taken up with sticking little plastic flowers to the tiny net bags of sugared almonds that were to be given to the guests and with testing the camcorder to make sure Megan, Sioned and Gwenno all knew how to use it properly and that the battery was fully charged.  
  
It was while the three friends were poring over the camcorder manual that the doorbell rang. Sophie went to answer it, glad of the chance to escape for a minute or two. It was Neil's paragon of womanhood, Debbie Price, from next door. She looked as if she was dressed up to go to a party, with a smudge of sparkly pale-pink shadow on her eyelids and her dark-red hair fastened up with glittery green-gold clips. She was standing on the doorstep, nervously twiddling a ring on her little finger and shifting from foot to foot.  
  
"Is Neil in?" she demanded, trying to look past Sophie.  
  
"No," said Sophie, rather taken aback by the girl's abrupt manner. Determined to prove that girls from Ingary could be equally short with people when they felt like it, she made to close the door in her face, but then Debbie spoke again.   
  
"Where's he gone?"   
  
"Out," said Sophie. Then, with a twinge of sympathy that was more directed towards Neil than Debbie, she added: "He'll be back tomorrow." This time she really did close the door. She smiled to herself. Perhaps Neil's crush wasn't completely unrequited after all.  
  
+++  
  
That evening, Howl used up all the hot water again in preparation for going out on his stag night which was to start in the Ship, the pub with the gigantic magic picture screen. Not wanting to endure an evening of Megan's fussing over sausage rolls and party favours, Sophie determined to go to bed at nine o'clock -- the same time as Howl set out for the pub.  
  
Upstairs, she hurried to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Howl heading down the street towards the Ship, but she couldn't have been quick enough. The street was empty. Sighing, she drew the curtains. An early night was a good idea. Megan had originally suggested a hen night in a local nightclub called Starlight's, but Sophie didn't think she could face an evening of the pounding music that was so popular in Howl's world. Not to mention several more hours in the company of Megan and her friends.  
  
In bed, Sophie's attention turned to the guidebook Howl had brought her. She picked it up and flicked to the map page which she gazed at for a long time, taking in the curious names of the unknown towns and countries. At length, she turned the page and tried to start reading. However, she must have been drowsier than she thought because the guidebook didn't seem to talk about landmarks or places of interest to visit in Rivendell. Instead, it seemed to concern the birthday party of someone called Bilbo Baggins. Sophie's eyelids were heavy. She yawned and let the book slide off the bed. Reading would have to wait for another time if she wanted to be fresh and alert for her wedding day. That was her last thought as she drifted off into a sleep in which shadow people and mysterious constellations still lurked, but only at the very remotest corners of her dreams.  
  
+++  
  
Meanwhile, in a completely different world, the wizard Derk and his children were also getting ready for Sophie's honeymoon.  
  
"I thought we'd seen the last of these Pilgrim Parties when we got rid of Mr Chesney and his demon," grumbled Blade, Derk's human son, as he dragged a paintbrush over his younger sister's wings. "Wasn't that what the Oracle said? Stop fidgeting, Elda, you're splashing me."  
  
"I'll stop fidgeting, if you stop tickling me," retorted Elda, a beautiful golden griffin whose wings and fur were now almost completely covered with black paint. "Anyway, I don't see why I should have to go through this when we've got Kit who's already the right colour."  
  
Their brother, Kit, another griffin, stretched his glossy black wings and yawned irritably, snapping his powerful beak shut afterwards, to show exactly what he thought of having to do another tour after everyone on their world had believed they were done with that particular nuisance forever.  
  
"This tour's a little different," said Querida apologetically. The high chancellor of the wizards' university had spent the morning calling on local residents, checking in person that their preparations for this latest tour were under way. As public feeling was almost universally against any further tours, this had given her a lot of practice in sounding apologetic. However, a shrewd glance at Derk's family confirmed her suspicion that their experience of the Pilgrim Parties meant she would do better to appeal to their pride than their pity and her tone changed to a brisker one. "For one thing there'll only be two people, so you can scarcely call that a party. Evidently the Oracle didn't. For another, it's not one of Mr Chesney's ventures. It was requested a long time ago by one of Mr Chesney's customers, a Mr Jenkins. He contacted the university after he'd returned to his own world and asked whether we did customised tours. He was just a young lad at the time and apparently noone thought it would come to anything, but they replied telling him what information we needed from him." Her pouchy eyes almost closed up with annoyance at the incompetence of her colleagues. "I was never informed of it. Apparently the matter had bee completely forgotten until last month when his order came through."  
  
"So now we're expected to jump to attention again," Blade observed wryly.  
  
"It's the very last time," Querida told him. "And it's only a honeymoon couple, so we don't anticipate them causing the environmental damage of one of Mr Chesney's tours. It'll be very simple for people with your experience."  
  
Derk's other human child, his daughter, Shona snorted with bitter scorn at this. She picked one of the three volumes of guidelines Mr Jenkins had sent them and held it up. "Seems like a complicated kind of tour to me," she said. "Have you actually read the guidelines, dad?  
  
Derk waved a hand dismissively. "I flicked through them. Wizards, dwarfs, rings of power, dark lords and their minions -- sounds like the usual stuff to me."  
  
Blade sighed and picked up a tall, pointed hat covered in silver stars. "I suppose I'm going to be a wizard again," he said.  
  
"Actually, I'm going to be the wizard," Derk told him, taking the wizard's hat from him and handing him instead a sweeping black cloak with a hood. "You, son, are going to be what is called a 'Ringwraith'".  
  
++++  
  
All characters belong to Diana Wynne Jones. "Lord of the Rings" belongs to JRR Tolkien.  
  
++++  
  
Oh, Calcifersgrl, you've reminded me of another story I keep wanting to write -- all about Milly at her boarding school. It'll take me forever to get round to it though, so if anyone wants to write about that, please do! 


End file.
